


If Wishes Were Horses

by Mikkal



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Horseback Riding, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Multi, Permanent Injury, Semi-Slow Burn, bad things may happen but not within the relationship, happy relationship, therapeutic riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie is new to Central City and he intends on making it his home as close to permanently as possible. Which means he needs to find a stable for his horse, Cobalt Blue. </p>
<p>Luckily, Central Star Stables has everything he needs. And, not to mention, he now has the quickly growing friendship with Iris and Barry to enjoy--hoping it means as much to them as it does to him.</p>
<p>Hopefully this all ends well.</p>
<p>(hint: it does)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Wishes Were Horses

> _“If wishes were horses_
> 
> _then we’d ride through the night._
> 
> _If wishes were stars_
> 
> _then the whole sky would be bright.”_

**June**

Gravel crunches under his boots as he climbs off his bike. Eddie takes off his helmet to get a proper look at the building in front of him and the surrounding land, shielding his eyes carefully against the mid-June sun. He grins, now _this_ is what a stable should look like. It’s clean and well-built, there’s no fraying edges and the only part that looks damaged is being worked on right this very second. The last stable he looked at actually had him calling the cops for animal abuse.

He shudders at the memory of those poor horses. He’d _never_ board his horse there. Just thinking about those horrible conditions makes his stomach roll. Here, on the other hand, he’s heard good things about Central Star Stables and he’s already impressed.

Eddie steps into the building housing the indoor rings and the good impression doesn’t falter. The building is large enough for two separate rings—one set up for flat work and the other for jumping—and enough room around each for a good sized audience. The lighting is bright and the place smells like hay and horses. At each side is a pair of dark brown bleachers for crowds at shows. There’s three horses plus five people in one ring and two horses being lunged by different people in the other.

So far, so good. He’s impressed by how professional and clean everything looks—well, as clean as you can keep a horse stable. Dirt is a thing, who knew?

 “Eddie Thawne?”

He turns and smiles brightly at the woman approaching him. “Tess Morgan, right?” He shakes her hand firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

 “I’m glad you decided to scope out Central Star,” she says. “To be honest, having the Thawne family board even one horse here will do wonders for our reputation.” She grimaces. “The previous management kind of tanked it.”

 Oh, Eddie heard all about that. The earful he got from his mother when she saw Central Star was on his list to check out had his ears ringing for a few hours—that’s not even an exaggeration—but their reputation has skyrocketed since Tess Morgan and Harrison Wells bought the previous owners out six years ago.

 “Why don’t I give you a quick tour? I know you haven’t fully settled on a place.” She grins. “I recognize the look.”

Eddie laughs. “Spoken like a true stable owner.” He gestures to the building around them. “How many horses do you board right now?”

 “Twenty-five,” she answers easily. “And we have five lesson horses owned by me and Harry, then our three private horses for us and our daughter. Four of the horses belong to soldiers currently overseas and we have a Therapeutic Riding Program on two of our lesson horses.”

Eddie whistles. “Do you host horse shows?” He already knows this from looking them up, but knowing dates and winners doesn’t tell him much.

 “Of course,” she answers, leading him around to the stalls and the corridor, leaving the indoor rings behind. “We have our in-house horse shows for those who take lessons here, one in January and one in June. Sometimes we’re asked to host some of the state competitions, but we’re a little leery about those, sometimes we get someone in our TRP that we don’t want to subject them to the chaos and interrupt their progress.”

“TRP?”

 “The Therapeutic Riding Program,” she offers. “We don’t have an official name other than that, don’t need one. We’re accredited by the Professional Associate of Therapeutic Horsemanship, we have a certificate from the Equine Assisted Growth and Learning Association too. We have a few people on staff who board their horses here and are on payroll to help with both aspects of the program.”

Tess is firm and fluid, unyielding in a way that tells Eddie she’s had people question their accreditation before. What Central Star can do just adds to the pros of wanting to board Cobalt here, he’s seriously considering not waiting another second and just signing the paperwork now, but he holds off.

He holds off for the tour of the corridor, the tack room, the wash racks, around the rest of the building for pastures and the outdoor rings. There’s one set up specifically for show Dressage and another with jumps. There’s a large forest to the east that has trails and three cross country courses that overlap.

 “Harry’s over where we keep the hay,” Tess says. “We just got our shipment. Why don’t we see him then we can talk about more about logistics?”

 “Sounds good.” His heart’s already sold anyway. He’s not sure how long he’s in Central City, but he’s beginning to hope for it to be a long time if this is what comes with it.

The hay loft, which isn’t really a loft because that’s a dumb idea, is on the other side of the stable to the left of the indoor ring, plenty far away from the horses in case of, you know, not-so-spontaneous spontaneous combustion. It’s walled on three sides and the fourth side is moveable doors, probably for the truck and to keep things aired out. There’s piles and piles of hay bales stacked on each other that reminds Eddie of the stable from his childhood and how he and the rest of the kids pretended to live in New York City or Chicago with skyscrapers, not blue-blood class Keystone.

There’s two guys at the ground floor, both wearing heavy-duty workman’s gloves, one of them, Harrison Wells if he’s remembering the pictures from the website correctly, has his glasses crooked, and the other has hay stuck in his long black hair.

 “Eddie, this is Harry, my husband, and Cisco our gadgeteer,” Tess says, kissing her husband on the cheek. “Guys, this is Eddie Thawne, he’s thinking about boarding his horse Cobalt Blue here.”

 “Iris and Barry are up top,” Harry answers, jerking his thumb to the top of the hay bale towers before pulling Tess closer for a proper kiss that has her smacking his shoulder and Eddie’s ears burning. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Thawne.”

 “Eddie, please,” he says almost desperately. Mr. Thawne sounds like his dad, makes him sound old, or, worse, it makes him sound like his uncle, which makes him sound like a bad person.

Cisco sticks out a hand, not even bothering to take off his gloves. “Nice to meet you, man. Cisco Ramon, if you have any problems with your phone or your tack, give me a holler. I got mad skills in both departments.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Eddie replies, he likes Cisco’s smile, it’s easy and bright. “So if I were to be thinking about getting a new saddle, I can talk to you?”

“ _Hell._ Yes,” is the immediate answers even though the man doesn’t know what kind of saddle Eddie’s looking for or even why.

 “Good, cos I—.”

 “— _Incoming_!”

Eddie looks up in time to see a flying hairball launch itself from the hay bales and come careening towards Cisco. The long-haired man winces preemptively and sticks out his arms, bending his knees in a brace to catch what is apparently a death-defying cat. She’s long haired, white and tan, and purring so loudly Eddie can hear it from here. The cat scrambles from Cisco’s arms and starts twining herself around Eddie’s legs, looking up at him with _pretty please_ in her eyes until he picks her up and scritches her ears.

  “Don’t. throw. the. cat,” Harry shouts.

A head sticks out over the edge. “We didn’t!” Iris, that has to be Iris, a pretty name for a gorgeous woman, her smile is bright and her eyes crinkle at the corners, like her body can’t contain how happy she is. It feels he’s caught in the middle of a storm, breathless. “She heard a new person talk and wanted to say hi. Hi, new person!” she shouts down.

Eddie waves dazedly. “H-Hi.”

She disappears for a moment, but he can hear her speaking, muffled, but clear enough. “Barry, Barry, come say hi to the new person. Your cat tried to attack him.”

 “She did not!” Barry’s head pops out, hair all ruffled with hay sticking out of it like Iris shoved a fist full at him. “Hi, new person.”

 “Eddie,” he manages to strangle out.

Barry smiles and Eddie feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “Hi, Eddie. I see you’ve met Fluffernutter. Don’t mind her. She likes new people.”

 “Fluffernutter,” he repeats, struck by lightning in a storm, struck dumb.

He rolls his eyes, exaggerated and mocking, but Iris just laughs, light and musical. “Iris named her. Full name: Fluffernutter Toebeans. Caitlin calls her Little Missy. You can call her whatever, she’s the only cat that spends more time around people here and she doesn’t stay over night.”

“Barry,” Harrison calls out, it feels weird calling him Harry when there’s a _Barry_ right there. “Toss another bale down, we’ve got to get the south pastures filled today.”

The man disappears over the edge, Iris along with him, but not before she says a quick, “See you later!” down to him.

Fluffernutter jumps from his arms to land on the ground primly before climbing her way back to the top of the tower she came from. He and Tess walk back to the indoor ring and when a pretty brunette rushes up to Tess he takes a moment to look back around, there’s a few extra people around now that it’s late afternoon/early evening and people are getting out of school or off of work. The place has this air about it, like it’s home for the people just as much as it’s a home for the horses, and after the last stable he boarded Cobalt in, he needs a place like this. They’re well organized, they have trails, the people he’s met are the _best._ He can’t think of any cons other than, well, nothing.

It takes only an hour for them to go through the paperwork when Tess is finished helping Kendra with her problem about one of the gates not locking properly—he’ll have to look into the whole ‘stupid teenagers thinking they’re cool, trespassing and breaking shit’—he makes arrangements for Cobalt to be trailered here in the next few days and when everything is said and down he feels a lot better about moving to Central City. Now that he has easy access to his horse, dealing with his disapproving partner at the CCPD will be even easier. He’s sorry the man’s previous partner was shot and killed (he really is, he knows how hard it is), but it’s not his fault Captain Singh assigned him to Detective West.

He’s at a loss of what to do when his name is signed on the (several) dotted lines and his first payment is, well, paid.

Tess laughs, probably seeing his lost expression. “You can wander around if you want,” she says. “You have access to everything as a boarder. Feel free to do a little more exploring beyond what we went over on our tour. You could take one of lesson horses out on a trail, I’m sure someone’s willing to go with you.”

He smiles. “Thanks, I think I’ll just wander around.” Her office phone chooses that moment to ring. “I’ll let you get back to your stable.” She huffs another laugh. “I will see you later.”

Eddie thinks about heading to the stall corridor again, just to get the feel of who is in which stall, read the names of the horses and their owners, who wears the standard colored halter, who decides for a bright pink one for a black horse? Then he remembers Barry and Iris and Cisco and takes a turn to head back to the hay storage. The four are still there, Fluffernutter cradled in Harry’s arms, and Cisco standing close to the ladder, just a little bit behind Iris.

He pauses in the background, watching Barry struggle to back down the ladder, his legs shaking, his knuckles chalk white with how tight he’s gripping the sides. He makes it to the ground, stumbling only slightly, and he swings an arm over Iris’ shoulders, leaning on her almost casually.

 “Why is it easier to go up the ladder than down?” he remarks, not quite a question.

 “I told you ten hay bales ago to stop,” Iris fusses, though she wraps a hand around the wrist handing over her shoulder. “Don’t come whining to me when—oh, hi again, Eddie.”

Oh crap. He isn’t trying to eavesdrop, promise. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He swallows past the nervousness that suddenly sprung up. Having, not just four sets of eyes on him, but two of those sets belonging to such gorgeous people? Um, no thank you. “I originally came back to see if one of you was willing to give me a more detailed tour? But I can see that you’re busy.”

Iris takes a small step forward, but she doesn’t let go of Barry. “You’re boarding your horse here?” she asks hopefully.

He nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

 “In that case,” she says brightly. “Barry?”

Barry noticeably straightens up, giving him about half a foot on Iris in height. He shifts from side to side before nodding. “I’m good.” He smiles wide at Eddie. “So, a tour, huh?”

* * *

 

Just a day later, two days before he can go get Cobalt, and he’s already going crazy with boredom. The idea of touring Central City by himself makes him nervous and the idea of asking Iris or Barry or both to go with him makes it worse. One, they’re not here at the moment, two, why would they agree to something like that? and, three, the way Barry seems to struggle with walking kind of puts walking around an entire city out of the question. He doesn’t want to cause them any trouble.

So he begs Tess for something, anything, to do, even clean out the stalls, which isn’t his job for another week, but Roy’s already gotten to them.

She hums thoughtfully for a moment before she snaps her fingers. “I got it! John Diggle is still on tour for a few more months, unfortunately Oliver’s a bit caught up at work and he hasn’t been able to take John’s horse out for some needed exercise. Would you mind taking Sparta out?”

“Ride or lunge?”

Tess shrugs. “Either works. Preferably I’d like him to go out on the trails, but the rule is you have to go in pairs and I’m not sure who’s here or free right now. If you can’t find someone, he’s a jumper and the second outdoor ring has the right height for him.”

Eddie cheers. “ _Thank you_.” She laughs loudly.

It takes him a few minutes to find the stall with ‘Sparta’ engraved on it, and when he does he has to take a moment to marvel at the black Appaloosa staring at him, munching on some hay. The prettiest horse he’s ever seen outside his own Cobalt and one horse called Eris that he saw a long time ago that belonged to a woman named Lisa.

A pressure against his ankle causes him to glance down only to find Fluffernutter—God, that’s a mouthful—purring, twisting around his legs. She glances up at him and mews, making Eddie melt completely. He scoops her up, cradling her in his arms like a baby, fluttering his fingers in her face. She bats at him, her tail swishing, her purring getting louder.

 “Can I call you Fluff?” he asks. “Fluffernutter Toebeans, hell even just Fluffernutter, is a mouthful.” He doesn’t expect an answer, so he jumps when he hears: “Fluff is good.”

His heart is pounding and Barry grins apologetically. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s leaning to the left on an open cuff crutch, his knuckles white. Eddie blinks, the corridor echoes a lot here, how did he sneak up on him? Barry follows his gaze and his grin dims just a little bit before it brightens back up, strained now. “It’s been almost a year,” he says quietly, like he’s telling it to himself. “You figure out how to be quiet pretty quickly.”

 “The corridor echoes though,” Eddie says weakly in argument. He’s graced with Barry laughing loudly. He’s going to end that train of conversation on that good note and continues with: “What are you up to?”

Barry shrugs. “I planned on taking Crim’ out.”

“I’m taking Sparta out; do you want to go out on a trail?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his hope at manageable levels. He really wants to get to know all the trails here on the property, but he’s willing to wait if Barry says no. He’ll be only a little disappointed.

 “Sure, why not?” Barry swings his crutch side-to-side almost absently. “I’ll meet you at the beginning at A1, ‘kay?”

Eddie gives him a jaunty salute that gives him that shoulder-shaking laugh again and he studiously ignores the flutter in his chest. He watches Barry walk ten stalls down for only a second, admiring the lines of his shoulders tapering to his waist through the plaid shirt the fits him snugly. Fluff meows at him again and he glances down to meet wide, green eyes.

 “Don’t look at me like that,” he hisses. “Leave me alone.” All she does is sneeze at him and push herself out of his arms to trot towards Barry, her tail waving proudly in the air. “Ugh, I’m bring judged by a cat, great.”

The trails on Central Star’s property range from A to AAAA in terms of difficulty. Tess gave him a map of them and it looks like AAAA4 actually goes through a river with no bridge, AA3 goes over the same river but with a bridge. There’s four trails on each level and each trail has a series of markers that can’t be missed to make sure no one goes the wrong way. The trails have a tendency to overlap, so he’s glad there’s a way to tell the difference.

Eddie brushes down Sparta rather quickly, he’s mostly dusty than dirty that a dandy brush takes care of quickly. The only place he really has to take a curry comb to is a spot on his neck that looks like another horse decided to slobber on him. He drags the dandy brush over the top of his hooves, flicking the dust off there too just for pretties. Sparta leans into the brushing, snuffling whenever Eddie hits a sweet spot.

He grabs Sparta’s saddle and bridle from the tack room. The saddle pad is dark blue, the actual saddle and bridle are black. It’s a Bates Australian brand saddle and the price tag on that is pretty hefty, Eddie would be scared to even touch it if it weren’t for the fact he grew up with a dozen of these in his childhood stable.

Sparta actually takes the bit gently and it’s easy to tighten the girth. He holds out pulling it to its tightest for just before he mounts, but he’s ready to ride in no time. He stands at Sparta’s head, scritching his forelock. The horse sighs and leans against him, almost causing Eddie to stumble back, but having a 17 hands Friesian for a horse gives him the ability to fix his foundation quickly. Cobalt Blue is probably the cuddliest damn horse he’s ever met.

 “Eddie, hey!”

He leans out the stall door to see Cisco heading his way, behind him is a bright blonde woman he’s seen around the stable and darker, more muted blonde he kind of recognizes as well. “Hey to you too. What’s up?”

Cisco tosses him a folded magazine that goes a little too far to the left. Eddie scrambles to catch it, tapping it once, then clamping both hands on it. “Oops, sorry, dude. Anyway. New saddle ideas. I circled a few you might be interested in base on your requirements.”

Eddie gives him an absent thanks, already flipping through to find some of the circled items. It’s not for another few seconds before he realizes how rude he’s being. “Oh, hey,” he says to the two blondes. “I’m Eddie.”

The muted blonde one laughs, high and light. “I was wondering how long it would take you to realize we don’t know each other. I’m Laurel.” She grabs the hand of the brighter blond, tangling their fingers together. “And this lovely lady is Felicity.”

“Felicity Smoak!” she adds. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He can’t help but raise an eyebrow that has her visibly backpedaling. “Good things, good things, I promise. Tess likes you a lot and Barry and Iris say—.” She clamps her mouth shut, turning pink. “Can we forget those last two names?” she asks weakly.

Eddie is more than happy to do so, his stomach doing an unhealthy, fluttering flip at the thought of two people he spent four hours with only a couple days ago. Laurel chuckles at Felicity’s embarrassment, fond and slightly teasing, and kisses her check.

“We were planning on getting lunch,” Cisco says. “We were going to invite you, but I see you’re busy.”

 “Eddie, I’m heading out!” Barry calls, tugging Crim’—a pretty chestnut…Quarter Horse? He’ll have to ask—out of her stall.

 “ _Very_ busy,” Laurel teases, grinning.

He throws his hands up, exasperated. “First the cat, now you guys.” Two days. _Two freaking days._

“‘The cat?’” Felicity shakes her head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” She tugs on Laurel’s hand. “Come on, I’m starved. Have fun with Barry, Eddie.”

Cisco winks at him as the trio walks away and Eddie’s face heats up.

_Two days_ , how does this even happen?

_Friends_ , he tells himself firmly. _Don’t get ahead of yourself, you idiot._

He tightens a few loose pieces on Sparta’s bridle and gathers the reins in a fist, tugging on them lightly to get the horse to follow him. Sparta follows willingly. Barry’s already on his horse, in the field in front of the entrance A1, pulling her in circles and figure-eights before urging her to a trot then a Piaffe. Eddie lets out a low whistle as he mounts.

 “Impressive,” he calls out when Barry slows to a walk, pulling up beside him.

Barry grins. “Thanks. It took more of the year to teach her that. I had nothing better to do.”

 “How long have you had her?”

 “Two years,” he answers, threading both reins through one hand. “I had her before my accident. She’s an easy going horse and she was the perfect candidate when I went into the TRP after the accident.” He words say ‘let’s talk about this,’ but the set of his shoulders and the way he won’t meet Eddie’s eyes says the exact opposite.

Accidents are a triggering subject and even though Barry’s mentioned it a few times, a two-day acquaintance does not a traumatic past revelation make.

So he changes the subject.

“Which trail are we taking?”

“A1 splits off to AA1 about halfway to the river,” Barry says. “It eventually leads to the river.”

Eddie nods. “Let me take Sparta around the field for a little bit longer, get use to how he takes commands, and we can head out.”

Barry smile is blinding. “Sounds good.”

* * *

 

“What’s his name again? I know there was a color, something Blue, right?”

Eddie does _not_ jump, except he kind of does. His face burns, being caught by surprise is not a good trait for a cop, and turns around, and then his blush is for a completely different reason. That reason is that Iris is leaning on the stall door, watching him brush down Cobalt after a small ride.

 “Cobalt Blue,” he answers. “Or just Cobalt.”

“He’s gorgeous. Friesian?”

“Yeah.”

She leans further into the stall. “You do Dressage, right? And you’re pretty good at it. You’re a Thawne.”

 “I grew up with it.” He can’t help but frown at the implication. “I like it. It feels like dancing to me.” He sounds a little defensive—crap, why?

She puts her hands up. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she says, her smile disarming. “I remember seeing your name around in the circuit before. Barry told me you were looking for a new Dressage saddle—which, by the way, Cisco’s looking for you, he said he found some styles for you. He apparently changed his mind about the ones earlier.”

“I’ll find him, thanks,” he says, his hand tight around the dandy brush.

Iris sighs lightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound…accusatory? Abrupt? I’m not sure what the word I’m looking for it. I’m not one for Dressage, so I’m just kind of glad I finally meet someone who loves it. I do cross-country, Central Star has some of the best courses. Barry does show jumping—speed derbies and faults converted specifically—he likes going fast, says it feels like flying.”

Eddie smiles, relaxing at the real apology in Iris’ words and her expression. “I understand the feeling. Sometimes I don’t bother with the formalities and just let Cobalt _run_.”

She nods, a deep understanding in her expression makes him wonder how often Barry’s done the same, or even _her_. Her hair is in a high bun, her jeans are ratty and have seen better days, some horse slobbered over her dark gray tee-shirt, but Eddie swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. He fumbles with his brush, _just_ catching it before it hits the ground.

 “I just wanted to see how you were settling in,” she says, brushing a hand over her head for flyways. “Barry’s doing a lesson right now, but we were both hoping you’d be willing to go to dinner tonight? With us—the two, three of us out to dinner.” She’s stumbling over her words, tugging on the hem of her shirt kind of nervous like.

Eddie laughs softly. “I’d love to. I don’t know many places around Central yet that have good dinner. You willing to show me the ways of a Central citizen life?”

Iris grins. “Of course.” She grimaces down at the new stain on her shirt. “We can meet back here at seven, or you can meet us at the Central City Police Department at six.”

 “That’s an odd place to meet at.”

She shrugs. “My dad is a detective there. He’s working a late shift so I was planning on dropping off some dinner for him before he decides vending machine food is a good enough substitute.”

Eddie tosses his brush back in its box and takes a small step back, eyeing Iris thoughtfully. It’s a long shot, but he only knows one detective working the late shift tonight that is old enough to be Iris’ father—his new partner, Joe. Which, you know, is _great_ , the man already hates him, now he gets to add ‘having a crush on his daughter’ to the list of reasons. “Let me guess. Your last name is West. Joe West is your dad?”

Iris raises an eyebrow in confusion, suspicion flickering across her face for a split second before she starts laughing. “Don’t tell me, you’re Detective Pretty Boy?”

He groans out loud and that only makes her laugh harder. “It’s been a month. A literal month and your dad has only referred to me as ‘Detective Pretty Boy?’ You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She hums, smiling. “Well, you _are_ pretty.”

Eddie waits for the thrum of discomfort deep in his chest, but it never happens. He smiles back, pleasantly surprised. Normally, ‘pretty boy’ is not a compliment, it’s an insult meant to imply that he’s only gotten anywhere based on his looks, that he never knew struggles, never worked hard, never _tried_. But from Iris, it only seems to be for how he looks, no implication behind it at all. He wants to believe that she’s probably gotten the same thing—mostly likely worse to be honest—a gorgeous, young, black woman? Definitely.

“I’m glad you didn’t get mad, that would’ve been awkward,” she says. “I can tell my dad to lay off, if you want? It probably won’t do much, but I can try.”

He shakes his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ve got to do it myself. It sucks that I have to prove myself even with my background, but new territory, new rules, huh?” He reaches for the de-tangle brush in his kit, but Iris gets there first, going to Cobalt’s other side to start working on his mane. “I’m okay with meeting at the CCPD, though, if you are.”

He’s not going to think about how it’s going to look to be going to dinner with two people. It’s not a date, obviously, but it could look odd. Yeah, he’s not going to think about it. He’s learned a lot about Barry and Iris during his tour and the few times they’ve talked since Cobalt arrived and he worked on settling in, not enough for his tastes—he wants to know so much and there’s not enough time in the world to learn it all. He wants this to be a date, but he’s willing to wait to see what happens.

She grins brightly at him, eyes squinting, teeth white. “I’m okay with it,” she says in echo.

They fall in comfortable silence, focusing on their respective tasks—her at Cobalt’s mane, him at his tail—and Eddie sneaks a glance at her to see her looking away quickly, her ears darkening. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from actually giggling.

 “You mentioned you guys have a blog?” he asks, breaking the silence. “Tell me about it?”

She talks and talks about the blog she and Barry co-author, posts about animal shelters and Barry’s lecture notes, ghost stories and myths. It’s a mishmash of random, unrelated things, but it’s a hobby and people like them so they’ve been doing it for a year now and don’t plan on stopping.

They go from brushing Cobalt down to leaning against the wall of his stall, their shoulders brushing, their faces almost-too-close. It should be uncomfortable, they’ve known each other for, what, three weeks and the most time they spend together is here at Central Star, but it’s _not_. It’s not uncomfortable and Eddie doesn’t want to figure out why, he just wants to bask in the feeling of belonging, of people wanting him to belong.

Bask in the sunshine that is Iris West’s smile.

* * *

 

Joe takes one look at him—dressed down compared to what he normally wears to work yet still not jeans and a t-shirt and at work anyway when he has the day off—then looks over Eddie’s shoulder, then groans audibly. Eddie glances back and smiles at Iris making her way into the building, take-out dangling from her fingertips.

 “That stable you were talking about,” Joe says slowly. “That’s Central Star, isn’t it?”

 “Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ There’s something hilarious about the resignation on Joe’s face, it’s different than the bored-yet-slightly-annoyed expression the man’s been wearing since Eddie’s arrived.

“I should’ve known,” Joe says, sounding slightly accusatory.

Iris drops the bag of food on Joe’s desk and steps forward to wrap her arm through his. “Really, you should’ve,” Iris agrees. “You kept calling him Pretty Boy,” she adds, like that explains everything. Maybe it does, Eddie’s just too thrown by the warmth wrapped around his arm to think too hard about it.

 “Is this a date?”

That’s when Iris hesitates, glancing up at Eddie before going back to her dad. “We haven’t decided,” she finally says and that is both a relief and not. He’s kind of glad she didn’t outright say it’s a date without having at least a small mutual agreement among them. The idea of him not having a say kind of makes him a little sick to his stomach.

There’s an awkward silence that’s broken by Barry stumbling into the building. Eddie sees him out of the corner of his eye and whirls around to catch him before he face-plants on the ground. His knuckles are stark white on Eddie’s forearms and his legs look like they’re shaking.

 “You okay?” he asks, his heart high in his throat. For a moment Barry’s silent, taking a deep breath, before he’s shaking his head, laughing loudly. “ _Barry_ …”

He pulls away from Eddie—not too far, their arms brushing against each other—straightening his sleeves as he goes. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. A rambunctious toddler crashed into me when she was running out the doors. Lost my balance for a little longer than I wanted.”

“Are you sure?” Iris asks, her hand hovering under his elbows like she’s going to catch him.

Barry beams at her. “I’m sure. Oh. Hi, Detective West.” He waves awkwardly at the man Eddie forgot is still standing there…apparently staring at them. Oh.

“ _Joe_ ,” he corrects absently, staring at Iris.

He looks from his daughter to Eddie, back to his daughter then to Barry, then back to Iris, who just continues to smile sweetly at him. He groans and throws his hands in the air.

 “I don’t want to ask. Just have fun, okay? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” There’s a secret smile and a wink that has Iris giggling like it’s a family joke. Something tight in Eddie’s chest loosens at that and the tense line in Barry’s shoulders sag. He grabs up a file, slapping it against his hand. “Go on, kids. Don’t let me eat up any more of your time.”

Barry’s face lights up in a grin and suddenly he’s grabbing Eddie’s hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging him out the door. Iris stays behind a bit to kiss her dad’s cheek in goodbye before she’s hurrying after them. It doesn’t take much for her to catch up, Barry’s limp slowing his gait significantly.

 “Are you sure you don’t want your cane?” Iris asks, looping her arm through Barry’s. “I can grab it from the car.”

He waves it off. “Thanks, but I’m good. I promise.”

Eddie squeezes his hand a little tighter and swallows the questions on the tip of his tongue. First…dinner…first date (?), first whatever. Those are not questions he asks when none of them have agreed on what’s going on. Instead he goes for the ultimate, innocent question of: “Where are we going?”

“Garrick’s,” Barry says immediately. “I know the owners. Joan said she made a new dessert that I haven’t tried it yet.”

“I will never say no to new recipes,” Eddie says. “Lead the way.”

He wants to say this is one of the worse dates he’s ever been on—and, yes, it is a date, there’s no way of getting around it. He wants to say this is one of the worse dates he’s ever been on just so he could keep himself from getting too deep and drowning in something that could end badly. They always end badly.

But even when he says the wrong thing they don’t get up and leave. Even when he stumbles over his words and makes a fool of himself, they only laugh and giggle with adoration, not mockery. Barry nervously rambles as much as he does, turns red in embarrassment just as dark as Eddie. Iris is practically flawless, but even she strings words together wrong and spills wine on her dress, accidentally kicks Eddie in the shin when she laughs so hard her legs jerk.

So many things go not-right, but they’re not _wrong_.

It’s _the_ best date of his life.

 (That’s kind of a scary thought.)


End file.
